Two for Red: The Forgotten Potrait
by FireRoseFanfiction
Summary: Ib's rose has vanished and there's only one, blonde culprit who could have swiped it. The ransom is high, but if it means getting her rose back safe, then two loyal lives are worth it. An alternate ending with an OC, and double the feelings.
1. We did good

**(A/N): I love this game so, so much. There's plenty more where this came from, and plenty of feels, too.**

The pretty blonde girl holds the red rose delicately, though her blue eyes hold cunning thoughts at the three. Wren and Garry stand on either side of Ib, who eyes her precious rose, and three best friends.

"You know, red is my favorite color, but I like blue and orange even more." Mary smiles casually, clutching Ib's rose tighter as if it might break. Wren can see Ib's face grow even paler than when she realized her life force was missing. Garry doesn't have to look at Wren, both decided without hesitation.

"Take mine for Ib's, Mary." They both offer at the same time, willingly ready to hand over their lives to the twisted, fictional girl. Ib's crimson eyes widen in shock and great sadness as Mary returns the rose over to Garry in exchange for his and Wren's. Mary giggles in dark delight, and runs off and out of sight.

"Here. You'd better keep it close." Garry still smiles despite the tortured look on Ib's face as he kneels down and returns the red rose to her.

"Don't cry. We'll be all right." Wren will never be able to stand seeing the poor child cry. "Come on, it doesn't suit you, Ib."

"B-but!" Ib stutters, trying to hold back her tears with tiny fists.

_You'll die._ She doesn't say it, but they had accepted the risk.

"A cute face like yours shouldn't have tears on it." Garry wipes a loose teardrop with a gentle finger, the reassuring smile still there.

"We'll stay here, so go stop Mary."

Ib nods, bowing ever so grateful at the older teenagers who've looked after her since their journey together in Guertena's world. When she leaves to go after Mary, the two fall over in hidden, intense pain. Wren crawls to lean across the black wall, feeling worse by the second. Garry does the same, sitting by her side.

"You feel it, too?" Wren imagines the petals as orange as her hair being plucked off her rose, slowly one by one in glee.

"Won't let her see. Ib." Garry's smile has drowned in pain, but still lingers in a sad fondness. Ib, the little girl they had sworn to get out of here no matter what. The one they hated to see upset. Wren lets out a choked laugh.

"We did good."

"Yeah."

They both shut their wary eyes in silence, petals sure dwindling to a few.

"Those macaroons and that cafe you were talking about. I would have liked that." Wren remembers when Garry had mentioned the place, promising them both that he would take them there if they got out. _Will_ get out.

"Yeah. Me too." His voice is getting weaker, and Wren knows she must sound the same. "Ib'll be alright."

"Yeah." Wren nods, unable to feel much else now. "Hey, Garry?"

"Mmm?"

"It was nice to have known you. You're really great."

"You, too, Wren. You were strong this whole time."

"Hey, so were you." _For Ib._

"Mmhmm." Garry understands what she didn't say. They both did good. Wren feels Garry's hand slip into hers, squeezing it to make up for the things they never said. He stops, then suddenly leans over onto Wren's shoulder.

"Garry?" His hand is so cold.

"Garry."  
And a single tear rolls down her face as she feels the last orange petal fall down.


	2. The Forgotten Portrait?

Later that day, oddly at the same time the girl had left, Ib turns away from the large mural, blinking in confusion. What had she been doing? It was so strange, not being able to remember. Perhaps she had been wandering off without her parents? Ib exits the room, trying to remember something as she searches the gallery floor for her parents. A portrait catches her crimson eye, and Ib can't recall seeing it before.

"For...got...ten portrait." The nine year old reads aloud, knowing some of the words.

There's two people in it, leaning back against a wall as if asleep and holding hands. Ib doesn't think she's seen the two strangers before, but her heart feels so sad. She doesn't understand why she wants to cry, to call out unknown names, to awaken the sleeping duo.

"Ib?" Her mother's voice snaps Ib out of her conflicting thoughts. "Ah, there you are."

Ib can hear her mother approach from behind, but doesn't look.

"You must like this painting, huh? I'll read the description for you. You probably don't know some of these words yet."  
"It says: 'Though we may be forgotten, our seeds will bloom a rose in your heart forever.' Mr. Guertena certainly had a way with words, huh, Ib?"

Ib is as quiet as ever, a small, broken memory flitting into her mind. A rose, a red one that had belonged to her, taken by a false yellow. Then two, an orange and blue, saving the red's for the cost of theirs. It makes no sense to Ib, but still it creates an uneasy feeling.

"Your father said there was a cafe nearby that sells macaroons. You've never had those before, have you? He went to go get a table, so it's time to go."

Her mother turns to leave, heading down the staircase to the ground floor.

"Macaroons." No such seemingly meaningless word has made Ib so upset. A forgotten promise of them, and going together-the Forgotten Portrait-and-and-

"Ib, let's go!" Her mother calls as Ib takes one last glance at the picture of two together forever. She hastily concludes that it probably meant nothing after all, and hurries along to catch up.


End file.
